From out of the bushes rolled a small lump. Conker, out on his morning walk, immediately noticed it. It looked like a pile of dirty clothes. How it got there, he did not know. He was in the middle of the Barn Boys Valley and he knew all too well that nobody around here wore any clothes... for better or worse. He carefully extended a leg to prod at it with his shoe.

With a screech, the tiny, legless terror turned around to bare its teeth towards him, sending him stumbling backwards and setting all his fur right on end.

The motley little thing looked a lot like that nasty little girl he had fought during the war. However, her enormous Tediz partner was nowhere to be found. She just looked up at him, her neck crooked in an uncanny manner, and hissed a garbled hiss from a broken trachea.

Conker immediately wiped his foot on the grass. Awful little twit. He wanted to blow it up but yet, something about her didn't let him. Something in those eerie, piercing green eyes reminded him of somebody.

Even if it would be a mercy kill, at best. Pathetic. It laid on the ground like a limp doll without feet.

"I thought you got blown up." Conker finally spoke up, glaring at her with one eye whilst looking at a little garbage game on his phone with the other.

She only gurgled something eerie. Conker was twitching his tail about uncomfortably, and looked about to see if anyone else was following him. Not much, other than the sound of a distant banjo. He eased his conscience with the thought that she was now harmless.

Finally, after a sickening crack of her neck, she spoke in a high-pitched gurgle. "Rrrgh, Conker."

Tap tap. One microtransaction later and Conker gave her just a flick of his eye. "Yeh, that's me. What d'you want?"

"Remember when I was... a little girl?"

The little heap of what once used to be a toddler squirrel squirmed about, heaving herself up with her flimsy, scarred arms. It slightly startled him, but what was the worst that could happen?

Conker rolled his eyes. "I... don't. You had a hand of a tediz stuck up yer... uh. Y'know."

Her rasp made place for a more regular voice, her eyes turning back to blue as if by magic - and she suddenly sounded pathetic. Like an actual little girl. She looked up at Conker with a snap of her neck, her tattered bow falling over her suddenly tearful eyes.

"I want my mommy."

Eugh. Awkward. He still didn't trust her, especially if she switched from one to two so easily. Maybe there was actually something about her. He was curious, but also felt he had way too much on his plate to begin with, anyway.

"Alright, you wanna tell me your convoluted angsty backstory, then?"

The brat was behind a lot of nastiness, and Conker was absolutely sure she would do it again. No sense in trusting her.

She adjusted herself, sitting up for as much as she could without legs. She covered her eyes, as if weeping - then she spoke.

"I don't remember."

What an anticlimax. Conker sighed, put away his phone and walked off, wondering why he'd even try. He didn't notice her turning her head around again, and her eyes glaring in that noxious green shade behind his back.

It had shaped up to be a remarkably quiet evening, apart from some chilly breezes wafting in through the castle's windows. Conker was laying down on his gargantuan throne, surrounded by scraps of junk food wrapping, empty beer cans, dirty magazines and anything you'd find in a proper man-cave - except this man-cave was a throne room. Furiously tapping away on an old game controller, he made sure to install a little television in front of his throne after he felt an incredible itch to play some good old retro games again.

A small voice interrupted his game.

"Sire- I mean, Conker!" It was Rodent. He came running with a broom and a vacuum cleaner, as if he didn't know which one to use. "How many times do I have to tell you to clean up after yourself... you're a King now, not a slob!"

He didn't even listen. Shut up, Rodent.

"Did you... aw, gross! We have toilets for that!"

Laziness triumphed over the fact that they had some of the most exclusive, fancy washrooms in the entire country, and why walk all that way when you have empty bottles around? Idly picking at his nose with his little finger, Conker waved at his subsidiary to get lost without pausing his game.

A clatter sounded. For a moment, the disinterested king thought that Rodent had accidentally dropped the piss bottle, but it sounded a lot bigger than that. Rodent gave a scream... sounded more like a squeal. He called his name. Whatever. Conker was already grabbing for his headphones...

Then his TV got turned off. A distraught Rodent hopped in front of the machine, pulling Conker's head about by his chubby cheeks to face his duty. "Conker, you royal PAIN! Open your damn EYES!"

The little general panicked, running about in one spot. In the distance, a floating chair appeared. On first impression, Conker swallowed hard - he feared the Professor came back for revenge... until he squinted and saw that instead of the legless weasel, a tiny, grey girl sat upon it. She cackled. Madly. Mechanically... raspy. He heard that rasp that morning.

"I like this joint, Mr. Squirrel!"

Oh no. Did she follow him? That was awfully sneaky. He wasn't expecting that at all. She floated about, twiddling on the control stick like it was some kind of game to her. All the while, she was cackling madly and knocking over whatever she could get her hands on. But not until she knocked over the TV did Conker speak up. "How in the-"

She adjusted the chair in front of his face and grinned widely. Those big piercing eyes stared into his without blinking. "This little girl has some tricks up her sleeve!"

"You broke my TV!" Conker exclaimed.

"I will break even more if I can!" Without much of another word, she whizzed about again with the full intent to ruin the entire throne room.

Conker stared at her without moving. "M-my TV..."

Rodent, who had hidden behind a pillar in all the chaos, peeked out from behind and adjusted his small glasses. He uttered a single exasparated sigh. "I thought we beat her!" he pulled at his ears. "I can't believe this!"

With a panicking Rodent and a Conker mourning the death of his cheap, off-brand, thrift store TV (and lost game progress) nobody noticed that the guards had already showed up to reprimand the cause of all the chaos. Once caught up to her, the two weasels had piled on top of her successfully. She spluttered angrily, her chair whizzing off into a corner without much aim. Green eyes glared daggers at the confused king and his lackeys.

"Got 'em," said Bob, the fat weasel, firmly as he held her to the ground. He was going to be gentle until she planted her sharp little teeth into his arm and hurled some very explicit adult language at him... and he promptly smooshed her under his strong hands to not let her try that again. "Whose child is this?"

Bill was standing guard behind his companion, clutching his flag a bit warily. He scratched his head under his helmet as he looked at her. "Doesn't look like a normal kid t' me."

Meanwhile, the little girl spat and growled like an angry, rabid cat, occassionally making deeply disturbing noises no kid should be able to.

"Your majesty? What we gotta do with this little bitch?"

Conker was reciting a little eulogy about his perished television, hand on his chest. Rodent wanted to yell at him, but couldn't bring up the courage to do so. He probably had too much too drink so he couldn't fault the guy too much...

Bob shook his head at his two superiors, a bit humbled. "Dungeon it is. Yer lucky I'm sucha nice guy, miss monster."

The little legless girl glared at him and switched her voice to demonic mode. "Fuck off!"

Bill inched away from her, grabbing onto his tail for comfort. "Told ya. No way this is a kid."

With those final words, the two restrained her and carried her off to the dungeons. As Conker watched them leave, he heard her hiss and swear something at him. Despite his slightly drunken stupor, he could barely make out a tiny middle finger raised towards him. That little girl was going to give him a lot of trouble...